


Sola Brightmane, what have you done this time

by deadroseboy



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 16:26:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14217120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadroseboy/pseuds/deadroseboy
Summary: The story of Sola Brightmane





	1. So she walks

Sola pads softly down the dark tunnel, trying to ignore the anxiety curling in her belly. She contemplates turning tail and running, back up, up to the sky, the air, freedom. But the twinge in her chest keeps her moving forward, through the tunnel and into Carden’s lair.

The first thing she sees is a skull, grinning eerily at her from it’s place on a shelf. She surveys the room quickly, taking in the shelves upon shelves of bones, some so big she wonders how they got here. Not that it matters, she supposes. She’s here to talk to Carden, not question the logic he works with.

“Greetings, Brightmane,” Carden’s soft voice echoes and bounces through the skulls, settling wrong in Sola’s ears. She jumps, turning maybe a little too fast and wincing when her tail knocks into a box. Thankfully, Carden ignores her mistake and instead focuses his foggy eyes on her face, squinting slightly. “You need something,” He murmurs as he studies her.

“I-” Sola shuffles her wings nervously. Did he have to stare so much? It was disconcerting. “Er, yes. I was hoping you could… I don’t know, divine something for me?”

“That depends. Just what are you looking for?” Carden ticks his head, frills fanning slowly. “The bones can tell me many things, but without a goal I cannot help.”

“My mother told me that I wouldn’t make it out,” Sola says, “But I don’t know what she meant. Make it out of what? This is what I want your help with.”

Carden nods slowly, frills dropping to flatten against his neck. “Very well. We will see what the bones say.” He wanders past her, muttering softly to himself as he searches the shelves. “Hmm… Ah! Here,” He holds up a bag triumphantly, “Imperial phalanx.”

Sola stares, confused, a little concerned. “Im… Perial phalanx? That’s Imperial fingers?” Her voice rises at the last few words, her horror evident.

“Well-” Carden spills the bag onto the floor, lining the bones up neatly, “-Only one Imp. Can’t store them together or they begin to think for themselves. This one was long dead by the time I found her.”

“O-Oh,” Sola clears her throat, “Um, so how does this work? I don’t- Um, I’ve never done this before…”

“You’ll sit over there and I’ll sit over here. I will divine what your mother meant, or a close approximation, and then you will leave me to my bones before I decide I’d like yours,” Carden explains quietly, “Now be still. I must concentrate.”

She sits, tucking her wings in close, tail neatly curled. It’s hard to stay still while an unsettling energy swirls around, ruffling her fur. Her nose itches. What feels like an eternity passes (It’s really only a few minutes). Finally, finally, Carden sits up and looks at her, eyes wide and scarily clear.

“…Well?” Sola asks softly, almost afraid to know.

Carden watches her a moment. Quietly, almost regretfully, he murmurs, “You will not survive.”

Her heart stops. “No… No, you must be wrong!” She denies, “Read the bones again! I beg of you!” But Carden is already shaking his head.

“I am afraid not, Brightmane,” He says, “The bones have spoken. Now leave.” He turns to move deeper into his cave.

Sola stares after him, desperate. Tell me you’re wrong, please, please, please- “Carden, please! Read them again, I-”

Carden whirls around, teeth bared and frills out full. “Leave! I have done as you asked, now go!”

Frightened by his anger, Sola turns tail and leaves, scrambling out of the tunnel as fast as she can.


	2. Strangers in the night

Sola shifts, pulling her tail over her muzzle with a deep sigh. Squeezing her eyes closed, she tries to sleep. Carden’s words echo through her mind, whispering of her demise. She flops, twists, and turns, trying to sleep. It evades her and eventually she gives up, pulling herself off the ground. She walks quietly around sleeping dragons and the occasional familiar, thinking that maybe a walk would clear her head.

She walks the outside edge of the camp, nodding to the night guards as she goes by. The night is gorgeous, the contagion receded enough to let the moon shine unhindered, and Sola can’t help but smile at how clear it is tonight. The sounds of sleeping dragons and the cool breeze settle her nerves. No matter what Carden said, all is calm right now.

Faint scuffling from the plains brings her out of her thoughts quickly. Sola stares into the distance, trying to find the source of the sound. The bushes a few feet away shake, dirt shifts, small gasps and whimpers sound, and Sola swears she can see a tail flicking slowly.

Against her better judgement, she creeps forward slowly, trying to peer at whatever’s in the bushes. The first things she sees is a dragon, maybe a small Pearlcatcher? Then she notices the blood, dripping down, down, down. Sola inhales sharply, frightened for the pearly. She hesitates, looking quickly between the dragon and the camp, unsure.

The pearly seems to be struggling to breathe, so Sola makes up her mind. Carefully, she picked up the injured dragon, noting how weightless they seem. She pads back to camp, heading straight for Theo’s den.

“Theo?” She calls quietly, hoping their medic is awake, even at this hour. To her complete and utter relief, Theodora is awake, calling a soft greeting as she comes out of a side cave. As soon as she sees the injured pearly, Theo straightens, instantly concerned and ready to help.

Sola sets the Pearlcatcher down gently. “I found them outside of the camp, hiding in some bushes. I don’t know where they came from or if they can be saved, but…” She trails off nervously, taking to just watching Theo work. The medic is moving quickly, bandaging wounds as she finds them. Her sensitive antenna twitch, seeming to guide her hands to the worst spots first.

Sola waits, anxiously shifting. Time passes, Theodora works, Sola worries, and the pearly remains breathing. Finally, Theo sits back with a sigh.

“I’ve done all I can do for now,” She says, packing her spare bandages and potions into her bag, “We’ll see how they react to treatment, but it’s not looking good right now.” She looks at Sola closely, “You should sleep, youngling. I’ll let you know how they are tomorrow.”

“I- …Alright,” Sola murmurs. She bends down and silently wishes that the pearly will wake up, then slowly pads back to her nest. Sleep does not come quickly, but when it comes, she does not wake until morning.


End file.
